Killer of Sheep

A sharply observed, lyrically romantic drama of a young paterfamilias in Watts named Stan, whose harsh job in a slaughterhouse leaves him embittered and depressed.

It's quiet, unhurried, understated, unblinking. Mood matters more than style, dailiness more than incident.

Poverty in the ghetto is not the guns and drugs we see on TV. It is more often like life in this movie: Good, honest, hard-working people trying to get by, keep up their hopes, love their children and get a little sleep.

It may fill you with despair or offer up relief, but you will not be unmoved.

As timeless as the human condition.

Killer of Sheep vibrates with the uncontainable energy of a sui generis masterpiece, tapping into something timeless and quintessential about the Black American experience – and American life in general.

It's a complicated, collage portrait that doesn't provide answers, only brilliant reflections.

It's a very internal film, brought out by some incredibly emotive acting, Burnett's melancholic tone and some brilliant cinematic framings.

Killer of Sheep is virtually a blues symphony.